Page 13 of Salacious Desires

I’m exhausted. I love this job, but I’m wiped out. I haven’t been sleeping well, and I blame it on my boss. My smoking-hot boss who makes me freeze up every time I’m around him and saying things I shouldn’t. The same boss who stood and watched a scene with me. It aroused me. I’ve never been aroused before. That was never allowed. Not in my past life, anyway.

I’ve explored my body occasionally since I left. I’ve even tried to pleasure myself the way Hannah told me she does, but it didn’t do anything for me. I thought I was broken. Or just damaged from all the stuff I’d gone through.

But then that scene happened. When I went to the bathroom a while later, my panties were soaked. I tried to touch myself before I went to bed that night. It felt good, but I didn’t experience any life-altering effects from it.

Now, every time I’m around Drake, my body reacts. My nipples ache, and my breasts feel heavy. My breathing quickens. My core clenches. It’s all so confusing.

With each step, I wince as I carry a tray of drinks to a large group, smiling through the pain. My feet are killing me.

Hannah took me to the thrift store after my second shift at Edge. With my tips from one night alone, I was able to buy seven dresses and three pairs of heels. All in dark shades, but none of them are black.

Each day, when I get dressed and look at myself in the mirror, I smile because I know my ex would have a coronary if he saw me in these colors, dark as they may be.

In the commune, women were supposed to blend in. Never be seen or heard unless summoned. They would only wear black. No makeup. No nail polish. No coloring their hair.

Words that have been chanted into my ear since I was a little girl play through my mind. I was supposed to be invisible. And I was. For so long, I let them brainwash me.

The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and I swallow the pain. Never again. I will never go back there. The ache in my feet is worth it. I’ll work myself to the bone if I have to. At least I’m doing it for myself and not him. Besides, I have medical insurance now, which means I’ll be able to get my medication on a regular basis.

I grab some empty glasses as I pass by tables and weave my way through a sea of people to drop them off at the bar.

When I finally break out of the crowd, I let my smile relax. I probably should have taken the break Shelly offered, but the last thing I want to do is make my bosses think I’m slacking.

I’m halfway to the bar when the air changes. A shiver runs down my spine, and I look around to see if anyone else notices.

Did it just get cooler in here?

Movement catches my eye, which is weird because people are moving all over the place in here. This is different, though. It’s like I can feel it. I turn my head in that direction and freeze. Because Drake is beelining for me, and he doesn’t look pleased.

I quickly plaster on my smile and hurry over to the bar. Am I not moving fast enough? Did someone complain? Shoot. Is Shelly not happy with me?

Right as I lower the tray of empty glasses, Drake strides up next to me, heat radiating from him. Part of me wants to lean into it, and another part of me, somewhere deep in my tummy, is telling me to run.

“Follow me.”

His voice is deep and commanding, leaving no room for argument. Shoulders sagging, I do as he says. This is it. I’m going to get fired, and then what am I going to do? I’m pretty sure this job is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Even though I don’t understand a lot of what goes on upstairs, I love it. Watching people scene together is addicting. I probably wouldn’t ever admit it, but I’ve wondered what it would be like to do something like that. Something so raw and intense. It also scares the daylights out of me.

Keeping up with Drake’s long strides has me practically jogging. The man is tall. His ass fills out his slacks nicely too. I want to reach out and pinch it just to see how hard it is. With as muscular as his arms are, I’d bet good money that his rear is just as fit.

Why am I staring at his butt? And why is he taking me to the restaurant?

I’ve been in here several times to pick up orders, but only into the kitchen, and we’re walking through the dining room.

The ambience is different than out in the club. It’s quieter and more intimate. White linen tablecloths and napkins. Real candles as centerpieces. It’s the nicest restaurant I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen very many. Until I left the commune, I’d never even eaten out.

Hannah and her husband have taken me to dinner a couple of times, and it’s been awkward, to say the least. I don’t know how I’m supposed to order, and I don’t know what a lot of things are.

Drake finally slows when we arrive at a small table tucked back in the corner, away from the other guests. He pulls out a chair and looks at me with a raised brow.

“Sit, Lily.”

I’m confused. I want to ask what’s going on, but I’m not sure if I should. When I don’t immediately obey, the corners of his mouth twitch. He moves around me and puts his hand on my lower back, nudging me toward the chair.

“You know the safeword here is red, and even as an employee, you are allowed to use it. However, unless you do, I expect you to obey when I give you a command. Now, sit.”

I shudder and lower myself into the seat, surprised when he pushes me in.

“Did I, um, did I do something wrong?”

---